Thursday, December 8, 2011

the stuff we have

I'll tell you a little something about a shift we are making. This part's about me.

I'm a city girl, always have been. But I have never felt materialistic, I never cared too much for the latest trend. My wardrobe isn't filled with shoes, in fact I have about seven pairs, only about two of those do I wear much.

My make-up bag is a bit sad: I have an old mascara, a 'smut black' MAC eye shadow from when I thought I'd try to be more girly, a lipstick which (hussssh) I also use as rouge and an Aveena face cream costs about 12.00, and one toner which was a gift.

I get my hair done every six months by my sister and I always claim I'll be back before the three inch regrowth, but I don't. Same with my eyebrows, a friend does a wondrous wax on me about every three months, again I get to the three week mark and think I'll go back cause they looked so good.

Most of my clothes are thrifted purely because I refuse to spend a fortune on clothes and since learning to sew it's even harder to pay for new clothing. My eldest daughter likes her country road clothing but again some we have bought on sale and most of it is handed down. My other children all wear hand me downs and they don't care or notice.

I only take the nice stuff I mean I don't want them looking like ragga muffins!

And also because I can be choosy. Because, I do realise, I am incredibly lucky. Lucky to be born where I was and to be able to be choosy. I have seven pairs of shoes!

But still, I'd always thought I was low maintenance. Simple.

Seventeen years ago I married a semi-hippy US navy boy, one I'd only actually known for only two days. And corresponded with for 18 months, so that's all right. When we did eventually meet again on my 23rd birthday, we had next to nothing. In fact he came here with $45.00, one bag, and one guitar he could only play three chords on.

I will never forget the vision of this young man making his way toward me in a big Navy coat torn off jeans, walking boots a goatee and a guitar strapped to his back, he was last off the plane having been detained by customs for quite some time.

I knew right then that somehow we'd be Ok. (We spent the 45 bucks on a hotel.)

His bag contained a Sylvia Plath book, a Navy coat (one for him and one for me, actually), our love letters, a few bits of clothing, and a book titled "Living Cheaply with Style: live better and spend less."

It was a long time coming, but the next bit is about him.


  1. what a great read. you have me intrigued. can't wait to read more. you should write more too. your words just roll...easy & interesting. geez, i was just off to bed and noticed you posted. now i am wondering what you are going to say next :)) xo.

  2. Definitely a great read.. I am intrigued for part two...

  3. I still can't believe it's 17 years ago!! This story is so romantic, you've come a long way since the $45....
    and I bet you have the love letters oohhh that's so sweet

  4. Living a frugal life isn't as easy as it sounds but you've done it and I'm kind of inspired from your story.Waiting to read the next bit..!
    Check this if you want -
    Are You Living Right?
    What is your state of Wellbeing?

  5. I think this is a beautiful story that you should be proud to tell. When we come to the end of our lives we will not be remembered by the clothes we wear or the things we owned but the connections we made and how we contributed to the lives of others. I can't wait to hear the next chapter.

  6. While we have not taken that leap into true simplicity, we talk about it often. Our stories are quite similar. I, too, married a Navy boy, who could only play 3 chords on his guitar when we met (he played the chorus of "Dust in the Wind" over and over), who travels with one small bag, who is a free-spirit and dreamer.

    Oh, how I love your story.